


Dirty

by blackeyedqueen



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: F/M, POV First Person, Tate POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years after Violet sends Tate away, he's reduced to a puddle of self-loathing which isn't exactly being helped by the fact he's letting Hayden keep him busy for the moment. But their activities may have consequences for Tate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Lots of bad language, some blood spill at the end. I didn't know if marking "graphic violence" was necessary, so hopefully this warning will suffice.

I felt so dirty as I was sticking my dick into her pussy and rubbing my hands on her breasts. I was sickened by the way she whined my name as I created the friction I needed to make it through another second of this hell. I hated her, I hated her so much because she wasn’t Violet. She wasn’t my ray of light. She was Hayden, who was as dark and sick and twisted as me.

I hated the way she’d been pawing after me for years. She had gotten bored of getting her brains screwed out by Travis and my wonderful fucking father, and I was getting tired of getting screwed by my right hand, all while thoughts of Violet danced in my head.

Twenty years. Twenty years ago, Violet and I shared our final goodbye, our last kiss. Twenty years since I’d seen her beautiful face, smiling at me while we played games. Twenty years since I felt her skin, cold as mine. Twenty years we’d been trapped in this fucking house together, and there hasn’t been a sign of her. But it felt like a hundred years. Maybe it had been a hundred years; it can be difficult to have any concept of time when your life has turned into one long, endless day.

Hayden was shrieking beneath me. The more pissed off I got, the harder I thrust into her, the louder she shrieked, the more I hated her and got pissed off. It was like a cycle.

“Mmm, like father like son,” she gasped. She thought she was being clever. In reality she was filling me with rage. I could have snapped her neck, right then and there. But I wasn’t finished with her yet.

It’s not like breaking her neck would matter, anyway, she’d be fine in a few minutes. The perk of being a ghost is you can’t die again. The downside of being a ghost is you are fucking stuck to live with the horrors of your life for fucking eternity. You are doomed to relive all the terrible shit you’ve done to people and to contemplate all of your shortcomings and misdeeds and torture you’ve inflicted on everyone you’ve ever known. You are condemned to forever know that the only person you’ve ever loved fucking hates you and wishes you were dead, like really dead.

Hell, I wish I was really fucking dead, too. It doesn’t matter that there’s no afterlife, as long as I never have to have another conscious thought again.

So yes, I felt fucking dirty as I came inside of Hayden who was fucking me out desperation, whom I was fucking out of hatred and self loathing. But as much as I couldn’t stand her existence, for as many times in the last twenty years that I told her I would never fucking touch her, for as many times I had sworn my eternal love for Violet, for as fucking dirty as I felt, it was worth it. It was worth it to demolish her with my dick, to feel something other than my fingers wrapped around it, to come in her instead of onto the floor.

But then I saw her. I saw Violet’s face. For the first time in twenty years, there she was. She was peeking around a doorway in the basement, watching us wide-eyed, horrified at what she saw. Hayden destroyed her family just as much as I did. I can’t imagine she was anything short of outraged.

A blink and she was gone. I threw myself from Hayden and ran to look through the doorway, trying to run after her but she was gone. I screamed for her, but she was gone. I punched the stone walls until my knuckles bled, I cried and I yelled and I cursed, but she was gone. If I had any sliver of a chance of ever communicating with her again, it, too, was now gone.

Hayden was standing next to me. Why she would even want to seek me out was beyond me, when I hated her more than I hated myself, as if that were even possible.

“Face it, she’s never going to be with you, so just fucking forget her. You’re stuck here forever, so why don’t you get the fuck used to it! See that you have someone who's willing to accept you, right in front of your face."

A flash of red, a scream boiling in my chest and ripping through my throat, and then my hands were around her neck. I was gripping as hard as my unnatural strength would let me, crushing every fucking bone and blood vessel under the skin that my hands were wringing. If she hadn’t begged me for twenty years to the point of no resistance, if I hadn’t hated her so much, if I didn’t fucking enjoy driving my cock into her as hard as I could, then I might have been able to see Violet again some day. I was behaving my best, sulking around alone, not bothering anyone (except being bothered by Hayden), not hurting anyone for twenty years, and Hayden had to fuck it all up by convincing me to crawl on top of her. So I smashed her skull one, two, three times against the hard, damp wall of the basement. I dropped her to the ground, gurgling as all the blood pooled around her. I spit on her temporarily motionless body before I stalked off, feeling the dirtiest I’d felt in twenty years--quite possibly the dirtiest I’d felt in my half a century of existence--with the most recent memory of my beloved flashing in my mind; her horrified face as I betrayed her once again.


End file.
